I suppose it was good for me in the end. You know, what ever doesn’t kill you, blah, blah, blah. I’m sure most everyone has had that one person that really broke their heart. The one that made you question your sanity. The break up that almost killed you.
I've always gone for the off beat, quirky kind of girl. The one that’s so cute in the Romantic Comedy. Spontaneous, dramatic, and full of spunk; Kate Winslet in Eternal Sunshine; Natalie Portman in Garden State… The one who says, “Let’s go bar hopping on 14th Street… right now… I know we both have to wake up for work in 4 hours, but who cares, let’s go!”; or “Let’s drive to the Casinos in West Virginia, right now, in the middle of a blizzard…”
That’s the girl I always fell for. And that’s the girl I got. Every moment a screaming roller coaster ride. We'd spend 3 tortuous hours breaking up on Friday Night then I'd wake to her tapping on my window early Saturday morning, “Let‘s work it out!”
It was a relationship that I knew would never work, but I put 2 years of my life into it anyway… It didn't make sense on any level, but I did it. That probably says a lot about who I was at the time.
Sometimes the relationship was ure bliss, sometimes it scared the hell out of me… There were many times when I just wanted the ride to end. "Please for the love of god stop this ride so I can get off and walk away."
So when that inevitable final breakup came… “this time we’re really, really going to be done.. for good,” you would think that when that happened I would have been prepared.
I was the one who begged off the ride, so it should have come as no surprise when the ride stopped. Right? But that’s not how these things work.
I got what I wanted, sure, but I became a depressing shell of the person when I got it. Maybe it’s because of the way we broke up.
The last 4 months were a series of breakups that actually became one long breakup. We broke up so many times that I don’t even remember exactly how it ended. Seriously, I can't pinpoint a specific conversation or fight that ended it all. It’s all kind of mashed together and I can’t tell where one breakup began and one ended.
I have no memory of that last teary eyed goodbye kiss… the last thing she said… was it yelling and screaming, was it sad, was it peaceful? I don’t know. We had everyone of those breakups at least two times. The last one could have been any of those scenarios.
What I do remember is that when it was all over, I was exhausted. I didn’t want to go out, I didn’t want to answer the phone, I didn’t even want to get out of bed. All I wanted to do was lay under the covers in my dark bedroom and listen to “A Long December” by Counting Crows, over, and over, and over again.
At one point I was seriously contemplating quitting my job, selling all my possessions, and just walking aimlessly across the country… seriously. I even checked into what routes would be the best to take... And then I remembered that I hate hiking, don’t like sleeping outdoors, and have a phobia of using public restrooms. That was the end of my “Walk Across America” idea.
The point is, even though the walk never materialized, I was so irrational at the time that I actually gave that idea real consideration.
I stopped caring about work, friends, family… everything. When my depressing spiral finally ended I was broke, bitter, and moving back in with my mother until I could get back on my feet. It was not a great way to end my year.
It took me the better part of a year to get back to anything close to my old self. That was a long time ago but still, I find my thoughts drifting back to her this time of year. Where is she? How is she? Does she think about me?
I’m a different person then the guy she knew. I have a wife. I have commitments and responsibilities. And I’m a happier person then I ever remember being back then. My life has changed in ways I had never imagined. Has hers?
The pain isn’t really there anymore. Thinking about it all now is like looking at a scar… a really nasty one. But it doesn’t hurt anymore. I don’t even want to think about it necessarily, it just happens around the new year. It’s like taking off your clothes to step in the shower- you catch the brief glimpse of your scar in the mirror and you remember the moment, the accident.
I hope it feels that way for her too. I hope her scar is just as deep and just as jagged as the one that marks me... But I also hope that, like mine, it has finally healed.
Friday, December 30, 2005
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
The Fine Print
“Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!” **This offer valid for a limited time only. We will accept you only while you are needed. If you are not white you may not be approved to climb the economic ladder. You can expect to be looked down on by those who need you to clean their houses, care for their children, cut their grass, and fight their wars. Please leave your culture at the door. Any boat rocking will result in your immeidiate expulsion.
Monday, December 19, 2005
Nudity
I just spent a week locked away in a hotel with no internet (no internet that worked anyway) and a very limited TV selection... There was nothing to watch on TV all week. I was VERY bored.
I spent one night watching the Travel Channel for 4 straight hours. They had a marathon of documentaries on isolated tribes in South Africa, Brazil, and Philippines... You know the documentaries I'm talking about... people with bloated bellies walking around in skirts made of leaves and an arrow sticking through their nose.
They're always on the brink of starvation yet they're surrounded by a camera crew who probably have access to an unlimited supply of steak and potatoes... those documentaries always suck me in and I can't change the channel. Anyway, getting to my point... I'm watching the show and I began to notice that every time they came back from a commercial break there would be this big warning screen:
**WARNING** THIS SHOW CONTAINS INDIGENOUS NUDITY
That's right, not just nudity, but indigenous nudity!
Does that mean they wouldn't normally be showing nudity, but because it's "indigenous nudity" it's okay?
Or does it mean, "Look we know you can handle seeing some run of the mill ordinary titties, but we're not sure you can handle indigenous titties... So consider yourself warned!"
Or maybe it's a warning for men not to get their hopes up... "Look we know when you see the word 'nudity' you get all excited, so in order to avoid disappointing you we're just going to come out and admit it right now- we don't have what you're looking for! (Unless you're looking for a naked African lady with a Mohawk and no shoes dancing around a fire while people throw red clay at her, because we've got plenty of that!)"
Regardless of the meaning behind the warning, it cracked me up everytime I saw so I thought I'd share it with you... so anyway, my X-Mas gift to all of you is this, Indigenous Nudity! I hope you can handle it:
I spent one night watching the Travel Channel for 4 straight hours. They had a marathon of documentaries on isolated tribes in South Africa, Brazil, and Philippines... You know the documentaries I'm talking about... people with bloated bellies walking around in skirts made of leaves and an arrow sticking through their nose.
They're always on the brink of starvation yet they're surrounded by a camera crew who probably have access to an unlimited supply of steak and potatoes... those documentaries always suck me in and I can't change the channel. Anyway, getting to my point... I'm watching the show and I began to notice that every time they came back from a commercial break there would be this big warning screen:
**WARNING** THIS SHOW CONTAINS INDIGENOUS NUDITY
That's right, not just nudity, but indigenous nudity!
Does that mean they wouldn't normally be showing nudity, but because it's "indigenous nudity" it's okay?
Or does it mean, "Look we know you can handle seeing some run of the mill ordinary titties, but we're not sure you can handle indigenous titties... So consider yourself warned!"
Or maybe it's a warning for men not to get their hopes up... "Look we know when you see the word 'nudity' you get all excited, so in order to avoid disappointing you we're just going to come out and admit it right now- we don't have what you're looking for! (Unless you're looking for a naked African lady with a Mohawk and no shoes dancing around a fire while people throw red clay at her, because we've got plenty of that!)"
Regardless of the meaning behind the warning, it cracked me up everytime I saw so I thought I'd share it with you... so anyway, my X-Mas gift to all of you is this, Indigenous Nudity! I hope you can handle it:
Friday, December 09, 2005
Aspiring to Be...
As I sat in my car eating my lunch a familiar voice reached out from my car radio and brought me to attention.
The voice was Tony Kornheiser. A hero and a mentor I've never met but have come to know quite well over the years.
He's a columnist, an author, a TV personality, a radio show host... If you live in DC, you can't escape the guy. (not that you would want to). He's sarcastic, he's honest, he's poetic, he's real.
You don't need to know him to know him. He is a voice in this City. Listening to his mid-day radio show is like having lunch with a friend.
One of his topics yesterday was the death of John Lennon. Or rather, writing about the death of John Lennon.
His editor from the Washington Post called him in the middle of the night simply saying, "Can you write a column about this in 30 minutes?"
Back then, newspapers really meant something. Newspapers were something you hold in your hand, not view on a computer screen.
There were no 24 hour news networks. There was no internet.
Now, when a big story hits you have a thousand different news accounts in a matter of minutes. But back then, there was only the newspaper.
So writing this story was a big deal. Tony sat down at his typewriter and hoped he'd be able to find the words... Hoped he'd be able to put something out in 30 minutes.
And miraculously, he did. The words seemed to come, not from his brain, but from his hands. The adrenaline flowed through his veins as his fingers danced across the keys. And there it was... A whole column in 30 minutes. He sent it in and did his best to try and get some sleep.
In the morning he flipped open the paper and checked to see if his column made it. Indeed it did, but he didn't read it. He was afraid it wouldn't be a good as it felt the night before... Who knows if it was good or not, that's really not the point. The story was more about the pressure of the deadline looming over but being able to come through and really contribute something of substance on such an important story.
I thought about it the rest of the day. The passion he had as he told it... That feeling you get when you're in that creative zone. He really nailed it. The words do come from your fingers, they just fall out and land on your keyboard. That's how it feels for me at least. Or should I say, how it felt...
How long has it been? When was the last time I felt that? Too long.
I stare at my computer screen. There it is, my blog. My profile. The words mocking me... "I am an aspiring writer."
What does that mean? Aspiring writer. Anybody can aspire to be anything. My nephew is an aspiring astronaut... doesn't mean anything.
I could have written "I am an aspiring rock star," what's the difference?
I've got two hundred-something pages of a novel that I don't have the courage to send out. Who the hell writes an entire novel and then doesn't send it out? Me, that's who.
So I've decided I should set a more realistic goal... something a little lower, more attainable. How does "aspiring failure" sound? Too harsh? Probably.
Maybe I should go in the opposite direction. I mean if I'm going to really aspire to be something I'll never be, than why not really set the bar high? If you're going to fall, fall hard. Right?
How about this- "I am Joel... Aspiring to be aPulitzer Prize Author, a Nobel Prize Winner, a two-term President of the United States, and father of Selma Hayek's children."
The voice was Tony Kornheiser. A hero and a mentor I've never met but have come to know quite well over the years.
He's a columnist, an author, a TV personality, a radio show host... If you live in DC, you can't escape the guy. (not that you would want to). He's sarcastic, he's honest, he's poetic, he's real.
You don't need to know him to know him. He is a voice in this City. Listening to his mid-day radio show is like having lunch with a friend.
One of his topics yesterday was the death of John Lennon. Or rather, writing about the death of John Lennon.
His editor from the Washington Post called him in the middle of the night simply saying, "Can you write a column about this in 30 minutes?"
Back then, newspapers really meant something. Newspapers were something you hold in your hand, not view on a computer screen.
There were no 24 hour news networks. There was no internet.
Now, when a big story hits you have a thousand different news accounts in a matter of minutes. But back then, there was only the newspaper.
So writing this story was a big deal. Tony sat down at his typewriter and hoped he'd be able to find the words... Hoped he'd be able to put something out in 30 minutes.
And miraculously, he did. The words seemed to come, not from his brain, but from his hands. The adrenaline flowed through his veins as his fingers danced across the keys. And there it was... A whole column in 30 minutes. He sent it in and did his best to try and get some sleep.
In the morning he flipped open the paper and checked to see if his column made it. Indeed it did, but he didn't read it. He was afraid it wouldn't be a good as it felt the night before... Who knows if it was good or not, that's really not the point. The story was more about the pressure of the deadline looming over but being able to come through and really contribute something of substance on such an important story.
I thought about it the rest of the day. The passion he had as he told it... That feeling you get when you're in that creative zone. He really nailed it. The words do come from your fingers, they just fall out and land on your keyboard. That's how it feels for me at least. Or should I say, how it felt...
How long has it been? When was the last time I felt that? Too long.
I stare at my computer screen. There it is, my blog. My profile. The words mocking me... "I am an aspiring writer."
What does that mean? Aspiring writer. Anybody can aspire to be anything. My nephew is an aspiring astronaut... doesn't mean anything.
I could have written "I am an aspiring rock star," what's the difference?
I've got two hundred-something pages of a novel that I don't have the courage to send out. Who the hell writes an entire novel and then doesn't send it out? Me, that's who.
So I've decided I should set a more realistic goal... something a little lower, more attainable. How does "aspiring failure" sound? Too harsh? Probably.
Maybe I should go in the opposite direction. I mean if I'm going to really aspire to be something I'll never be, than why not really set the bar high? If you're going to fall, fall hard. Right?
How about this- "I am Joel... Aspiring to be aPulitzer Prize Author, a Nobel Prize Winner, a two-term President of the United States, and father of Selma Hayek's children."
Saturday, December 03, 2005
Fight Night Diary
***Sports Warning*** I'm attempting to write a diary of Saturday Night's big Boxing Match. As always, I will attempt to make it readable for non-sports fans... So far I'm only about 50/50 in doing that. But here we go!
Okay here we are coming to you LIVE from the couch in Joel's living room and its fight night! It's the rematch between Bernard Hopkins and Jemain Taylor. The first fight was a solid and very physical fight that ended in a controversial decision that gave Jermain Taylor the Title...
(when you hear the word "controversial" used to describe a judge's decision in boxing it's code word for "Bull Shit").
We just ate our pre fight meal... I cooked my world famous Tomato Soup and Grilled Cheese Sandwiches meal. I must say it was a pretty big hit.
Usually on a fight night I have a big expert crew with me, but tonight we're a little short handed... Aside from myself we've got:
My wife Morena (she's picking bread crumbs off her sweater right now)
My Mom (about to fall asleep on the floor)
My Sister Jessica (about to fall asleep on the couch)
and Rosie the Cat (She's cleaning herself in a very dirty place right now... not very lady like!)
So that's it... That's who I'm watching the fight with. Me and a bunch of women. It could be a long night.
Just for the record, I'm rooting for Bernard Hopkins. He's one of my All-Time favorite fighters, so I'll be honest and say I might have a biased point of view... Hopkins has all the great features I love in a boxer:
-Has a cool nickname, check. (He's called "The Executioner")
-Has been to prison, check. (In his early 20's he made his living by robbing drug dealers... what can I say, he's a gentleman and a scholar)
-Has beaten the crap out of Oscar De La Hoya, check. (He knocked Oscar out with a punch to the liver in September of last year)
-Is Insane, check. (well you already read the part about robbing drug dealers... beyond that I can't really think of a way to sum up his craziness at the moment but I know Bernard and I have faith that he'll do something crazy tonight that will help me explain)
-Unintentional Comedy Factor, check. (He used to wear an actual executioner mask when he walked into the ring. He also has that weird ex-prisoner habit of trying to use big words in the wrong context... if that's not Unintentional Comedy, well I don't know what is.)
-Great Fighter, check. (Until his "controversial" loss to Taylor a few months ago, he hadn't lost in a decade... seriously)
In short, I have really enjoyed the Bernard Hopkins era and I'm not ready for it to end. But the cold hard truth is, he's getting old and I don't know how much time he has left. I'm hoping he's got at least one last great performance in him, we'll see...
The pre-fights are over. The last one ended a little faster than expected so that means we're in for lots of stalling for time and rambling commentary from HBO's "experts".
10:35- The crowd gets really excited and for a second I think the fighters are about to come out for the fight... but no, apparently the crew from "Rocky 6" is here and they're filming a scene in the crowd... Sylvester Stallone is 61 years and he's playing a boxer, yet I'm sure half the country will go to see this crappy movie the week it comes out.
10:43- I predicted there would be a crazy Bernard Hopkins moment tonight and Bernard didn't let me down... They just showed an interview with him from earlier today and had this exchange with a reporter:
Reporter: Bernard, you say that in your last few fights, you haven't had the passion. They've been all bussiness... Why is that?
Bernard: Silk underwear man. Silk boxers... I never bought silk underwear but I've been fighting with a silk underwear mentality...
I told you he was crazy!
10:49- HBO is still stalling. Jessica looks like she might fall asleep. I ask her if she's awake and she yells at me. "I'm not going to fall asleep! Leave me alone."
10:56- Jessica is officially asleep on the couch.
11:00- The ring announcer, Michael Buffer (aka The "let's get ready to rumble" guy) grabs the microphone to introduce the National Anthem singer. "a very special guest, and very special performer........................ R. Kelly!"
The crowd responds to R.Kelly with a stunned silence followed by a mixture of boos and polite cheers.
The Anthem starts and there's a bizarre background music accompanying the song. Also, several couples dressed in full evening attire are dancing around the ring as R.Kelly gives his "very special" performance... the only way I can describe it is- sureal.
Rosie the Cat is underneath the Christmas Tree trying to chew on an extension cord. My mom is screaming at her... Morena is rolling her eyes... Jessica is still asleep... I'm still in a daze over the R. Kelly National Anthem.
11:03- Bernard Hopkins comes out of the dressing room. He's wearing the executioner mask and James Brown's "I Feel Good," is his entrance music... I told you he was crazy.
Opps, I spoke too soon. Apparently they were playing the wrong song. Bernard stops his entrance while the PA announcer guy gets the music straight. The song was supposed to be "A Man's World" by James Brown... Bernard is still wearing the executioner mask.
11:05- Jermain Taylor comes out with some undistinguishable rap song... I explain the R. Kelly situation to my mom... "Why would he video tape that?!"
11:09- Lets Get Ready to Rumble!!!!!
Jessica's still asleep. Rosie is staring at the Christmas Tree with a crazy look in her eyes. I'm ready for the fight!
11:12- ROUND ONE, Jermain Taylor runs out after the bell and throws a couple of wild punches that miss. He then puts Bernard in a head lock and tries to hit him in the back of the head several times... This is highly illegal and the referee warns him. Sadly, that's the best action of the round. Both guys are nervous and tentative. But Bernard is a little more active so he's winning on my very unofficial score card.
Hopkins- 10
Taylor- 9
ROUND TWO, More of the same. Nobody wants to be the first to take a risk. I give the round to Taylor.
Hopkins- 19
Taylor- 19
ROUND THREE, Okay this is officially a boring fight. I'm okay with that, but my Mom and Morena look like they might join Jessica and fall asleep.
Hopkins- 28
Taylor- 29
ROUND FOUR, Finally the fight starts to speed up. Bernard Hopkins lands several hard shots and a couple of head butts... It's only illegal if you get caught. Score the round for Bernard.
Hopkins- 38
Taylor- 38
ROUND FIVE, Jermain Taylor lands several jabs and controls the round. I'm officially worried. This is looking a lot like the last fight and although most experts thought Bernard won that fight, the judges did not. So if this fight looks just like the last one then... well I'm nervous.
Hopkins- 47
Taylor- 48
ROUND SIX, Taylor is landing a lot of jabs, but Hopkins is doing all the little things that will help late in the fight... i.e. Punching Taylor on the hip, hitting him with elbows, pushing his forearm into Taylor's eye. All of that is technically illegal but too quick for the referee to catch. So even though Taylor won the round, I'm feeling better about Bernard’s chances.
Hopkins- 56
Taylor- 58
ROUND SEVEN, The round starts out with Rosie the Cat making a mad dash for the Christmas tree. She's got some kind of plastic wrapper in her mouth and my Mom is trying to talk her into coming out from under the tree. Good luck with that.
Meanwhile, Hopkins is having a big round. He's landing some really hard shots. Taylor's nose is bleeding.
Hopkins-66
Taylor-67
At the end of the round, Taylor doesn't look so good. His trainer is trying to get him pumped up leading to this exchange-
Trainer: All right Jermain, you need to get back into this fight... Do you remember what to do when Bernard ducks down low?
Taylor: Um...
Trainer: Come on, What are you gonna do?!
Taylor: Um... [mumbles incoherently]
Trainer: Yeah!!! Let's do it!!!
ROUND EIGHT, Idiot announcer Roy Jones starts off the round by saying this: "Right now Jermain Taylor is trying way too hard to be clearant with his punches..."
Really Roy, clearant?
Bernard dominates the round. Jermain Taylor manages to land a nice punch right before the bell rings, but it was clearly a round for Hopkins.
Hopkins-76
Taylor-76
After the round Hopkins' trainer gets a little too excited about the big round and forgets about the cameras. "You a bad mutha f*cker, Bernard. A bad mutha f*cker! Don't play no sh*t, whup his ass! You hear me? Whup his ass!"
How come sound advice like that can never come in a fortune cookie?
ROUND NINE, A very close round, but Hopkins starts landing some hard shots in the final 30 seconds. He wins another round and now leads on my very unofficial score card.
Hopkins-86
Taylor- 85
ROUND TEN, This round starts with more wisdom from HBO analyst Roy Jones... "Hopkins is winning the fight, but I'm not saying if I think he's ahead or behind in the fight."
This fight cost me $49.95 but I think I would have paid that much just to hear Roy's pearls of wisdom.
Bernard Hopkins dominates the round. Taylor looks like he wants to be somewhere else.
Hopkins-96
Taylor- 94
ROUND ELEVEN, Best round of the fight so far. Taylor hits Hopkins with a really hard combination that clearly hurts him. For a second it looks like he might be in serious trouble, but he regains his composure and lands some good shots of his own. It's not enough for Hopkins to win the round though. I score it for Taylor.
Hopkins-105
Taylor- 104
Some of those rounds were really close and I could see how the judges could go either way. Regardless, it's a very close fight and this 12th and final round could decide it.
Taylor's trainer is trying to get him pumped up for the final round, but Taylor clearly has no strength left.
The trainer's voice is now cracking like a 13 year old boy getting his ass kicked by puberty... He's been reduced to making incoherent high pitched squealing noises.
Bernard Hopkins' corner is calm and collected.
ROUND TWELVE, Bernard Hopkins seems to sense the moment. He's about to turn 41 years old, and this could be the last fight. This could be the last round.
He jumps on Taylor right away landing a blistering left hook followed up by a blatant low blow. The Referee gives him a brief warning and the fight continues.
Jermain Taylor clearly has nothing left and is doing his best to avoid exchanging punches at all costs... Hopkins has him hurt and wobbly with 40 seconds left so Taylor starts holding on.
Even if Jermain Taylor wins this fight, I'll never be a fan. This is a close fight and yet he's not finishing strong. That's what made me turn on Oscar De La Hoya. He's got a lot of talent but heart is what wins over boxing fans, and I don't see any of that. He's younger, stronger, and more talented than Bernard- where's the courage?
The round ends with both fighters in the middle of the ring missing with wild punches. One of the HBO announcers (Jim Lampley) tries to make it sound dramatic screaming that Taylor landed a "huge" combination as the bell rang. I guess we're supposed to ignore the fact that he clearly missed each punch by a foot. That pretty much sums up the whole fight. A lot of hype but nobody did much.
My final score card looks like this:
Hopkins- 115
Taylor- 113
I think Hopkins won, but I could also see how someone could have scored it as a draw. It was a very close fight.
Taylor's left eye is swollen shut. He doesn't look like a guy who thinks he just won a fight.
The Judge's score cards are in.
All three judges score the fight 115-113, and the winner is............
Jermain Taylor
Yuck... even Rosie the Cat looks disappointed. I wish I could say I was surprised, but I'm not. This is boxing and sometimes the conclusions seem incomplete or unfair.
To me, the final punch statistics say it all. Hopkins landed 130 punches and Taylor landed 124... but the real indicator is in the power punches. Hopkins landed 101 power punches and Taylor landed only 60.
As we're cleaning up the dirty dishes and getting ready to call it a night, a spider runs across the carpet. He's coming right for me.
Morena is frozen with fear. I let out a regrettable yelp... Thankfuly, just before the spider gets to me, my mom runs over to smack it with a shoe. It was the best punch landed all night.
Jessica awakes just in time to watch the spectacle unfold through her sleepy eyes... When it's all over she stumbles upstairs to bed, dragging her blanket behind her. She never even asked who won the fight...
I'll let HBO Analyst and Rhodes Scholar Roy Jones Jr. get the last word-
"Even though Hopkins lost the fight, I think he showed him very well for his self."
Well said Roy. Well said...
Okay here we are coming to you LIVE from the couch in Joel's living room and its fight night! It's the rematch between Bernard Hopkins and Jemain Taylor. The first fight was a solid and very physical fight that ended in a controversial decision that gave Jermain Taylor the Title...(when you hear the word "controversial" used to describe a judge's decision in boxing it's code word for "Bull Shit").
We just ate our pre fight meal... I cooked my world famous Tomato Soup and Grilled Cheese Sandwiches meal. I must say it was a pretty big hit.
Usually on a fight night I have a big expert crew with me, but tonight we're a little short handed... Aside from myself we've got:
My wife Morena (she's picking bread crumbs off her sweater right now)
My Mom (about to fall asleep on the floor)
My Sister Jessica (about to fall asleep on the couch)
and Rosie the Cat (She's cleaning herself in a very dirty place right now... not very lady like!)
So that's it... That's who I'm watching the fight with. Me and a bunch of women. It could be a long night.
Just for the record, I'm rooting for Bernard Hopkins. He's one of my All-Time favorite fighters, so I'll be honest and say I might have a biased point of view... Hopkins has all the great features I love in a boxer:
-Has a cool nickname, check. (He's called "The Executioner")
-Has been to prison, check. (In his early 20's he made his living by robbing drug dealers... what can I say, he's a gentleman and a scholar)
-Has beaten the crap out of Oscar De La Hoya, check. (He knocked Oscar out with a punch to the liver in September of last year)
-Is Insane, check. (well you already read the part about robbing drug dealers... beyond that I can't really think of a way to sum up his craziness at the moment but I know Bernard and I have faith that he'll do something crazy tonight that will help me explain)
-Unintentional Comedy Factor, check. (He used to wear an actual executioner mask when he walked into the ring. He also has that weird ex-prisoner habit of trying to use big words in the wrong context... if that's not Unintentional Comedy, well I don't know what is.)
-Great Fighter, check. (Until his "controversial" loss to Taylor a few months ago, he hadn't lost in a decade... seriously)
In short, I have really enjoyed the Bernard Hopkins era and I'm not ready for it to end. But the cold hard truth is, he's getting old and I don't know how much time he has left. I'm hoping he's got at least one last great performance in him, we'll see...
The pre-fights are over. The last one ended a little faster than expected so that means we're in for lots of stalling for time and rambling commentary from HBO's "experts".
10:35- The crowd gets really excited and for a second I think the fighters are about to come out for the fight... but no, apparently the crew from "Rocky 6" is here and they're filming a scene in the crowd... Sylvester Stallone is 61 years and he's playing a boxer, yet I'm sure half the country will go to see this crappy movie the week it comes out.
10:43- I predicted there would be a crazy Bernard Hopkins moment tonight and Bernard didn't let me down... They just showed an interview with him from earlier today and had this exchange with a reporter:
Reporter: Bernard, you say that in your last few fights, you haven't had the passion. They've been all bussiness... Why is that?
Bernard: Silk underwear man. Silk boxers... I never bought silk underwear but I've been fighting with a silk underwear mentality...
I told you he was crazy!
10:49- HBO is still stalling. Jessica looks like she might fall asleep. I ask her if she's awake and she yells at me. "I'm not going to fall asleep! Leave me alone."
10:56- Jessica is officially asleep on the couch.
11:00- The ring announcer, Michael Buffer (aka The "let's get ready to rumble" guy) grabs the microphone to introduce the National Anthem singer. "a very special guest, and very special performer........................ R. Kelly!"
The crowd responds to R.Kelly with a stunned silence followed by a mixture of boos and polite cheers.
The Anthem starts and there's a bizarre background music accompanying the song. Also, several couples dressed in full evening attire are dancing around the ring as R.Kelly gives his "very special" performance... the only way I can describe it is- sureal.
Rosie the Cat is underneath the Christmas Tree trying to chew on an extension cord. My mom is screaming at her... Morena is rolling her eyes... Jessica is still asleep... I'm still in a daze over the R. Kelly National Anthem.
11:03- Bernard Hopkins comes out of the dressing room. He's wearing the executioner mask and James Brown's "I Feel Good," is his entrance music... I told you he was crazy.
Opps, I spoke too soon. Apparently they were playing the wrong song. Bernard stops his entrance while the PA announcer guy gets the music straight. The song was supposed to be "A Man's World" by James Brown... Bernard is still wearing the executioner mask.
11:05- Jermain Taylor comes out with some undistinguishable rap song... I explain the R. Kelly situation to my mom... "Why would he video tape that?!"
11:09- Lets Get Ready to Rumble!!!!!
Jessica's still asleep. Rosie is staring at the Christmas Tree with a crazy look in her eyes. I'm ready for the fight!
11:12- ROUND ONE, Jermain Taylor runs out after the bell and throws a couple of wild punches that miss. He then puts Bernard in a head lock and tries to hit him in the back of the head several times... This is highly illegal and the referee warns him. Sadly, that's the best action of the round. Both guys are nervous and tentative. But Bernard is a little more active so he's winning on my very unofficial score card.
Hopkins- 10
Taylor- 9
ROUND TWO, More of the same. Nobody wants to be the first to take a risk. I give the round to Taylor.
Hopkins- 19
Taylor- 19
ROUND THREE, Okay this is officially a boring fight. I'm okay with that, but my Mom and Morena look like they might join Jessica and fall asleep.
Hopkins- 28
Taylor- 29
ROUND FOUR, Finally the fight starts to speed up. Bernard Hopkins lands several hard shots and a couple of head butts... It's only illegal if you get caught. Score the round for Bernard.
Hopkins- 38
Taylor- 38
ROUND FIVE, Jermain Taylor lands several jabs and controls the round. I'm officially worried. This is looking a lot like the last fight and although most experts thought Bernard won that fight, the judges did not. So if this fight looks just like the last one then... well I'm nervous.
Hopkins- 47
Taylor- 48
ROUND SIX, Taylor is landing a lot of jabs, but Hopkins is doing all the little things that will help late in the fight... i.e. Punching Taylor on the hip, hitting him with elbows, pushing his forearm into Taylor's eye. All of that is technically illegal but too quick for the referee to catch. So even though Taylor won the round, I'm feeling better about Bernard’s chances.
Hopkins- 56
Taylor- 58
ROUND SEVEN, The round starts out with Rosie the Cat making a mad dash for the Christmas tree. She's got some kind of plastic wrapper in her mouth and my Mom is trying to talk her into coming out from under the tree. Good luck with that.
Meanwhile, Hopkins is having a big round. He's landing some really hard shots. Taylor's nose is bleeding.
Hopkins-66
Taylor-67
At the end of the round, Taylor doesn't look so good. His trainer is trying to get him pumped up leading to this exchange-
Trainer: All right Jermain, you need to get back into this fight... Do you remember what to do when Bernard ducks down low?
Taylor: Um...
Trainer: Come on, What are you gonna do?!
Taylor: Um... [mumbles incoherently]
Trainer: Yeah!!! Let's do it!!!
ROUND EIGHT, Idiot announcer Roy Jones starts off the round by saying this: "Right now Jermain Taylor is trying way too hard to be clearant with his punches..."
Really Roy, clearant?
Bernard dominates the round. Jermain Taylor manages to land a nice punch right before the bell rings, but it was clearly a round for Hopkins.
Hopkins-76
Taylor-76
After the round Hopkins' trainer gets a little too excited about the big round and forgets about the cameras. "You a bad mutha f*cker, Bernard. A bad mutha f*cker! Don't play no sh*t, whup his ass! You hear me? Whup his ass!"
How come sound advice like that can never come in a fortune cookie?
ROUND NINE, A very close round, but Hopkins starts landing some hard shots in the final 30 seconds. He wins another round and now leads on my very unofficial score card.
Hopkins-86
Taylor- 85
ROUND TEN, This round starts with more wisdom from HBO analyst Roy Jones... "Hopkins is winning the fight, but I'm not saying if I think he's ahead or behind in the fight."
This fight cost me $49.95 but I think I would have paid that much just to hear Roy's pearls of wisdom.
Bernard Hopkins dominates the round. Taylor looks like he wants to be somewhere else.
Hopkins-96
Taylor- 94
ROUND ELEVEN, Best round of the fight so far. Taylor hits Hopkins with a really hard combination that clearly hurts him. For a second it looks like he might be in serious trouble, but he regains his composure and lands some good shots of his own. It's not enough for Hopkins to win the round though. I score it for Taylor.
Hopkins-105
Taylor- 104
Some of those rounds were really close and I could see how the judges could go either way. Regardless, it's a very close fight and this 12th and final round could decide it.
Taylor's trainer is trying to get him pumped up for the final round, but Taylor clearly has no strength left.
The trainer's voice is now cracking like a 13 year old boy getting his ass kicked by puberty... He's been reduced to making incoherent high pitched squealing noises.
Bernard Hopkins' corner is calm and collected.
ROUND TWELVE, Bernard Hopkins seems to sense the moment. He's about to turn 41 years old, and this could be the last fight. This could be the last round.
He jumps on Taylor right away landing a blistering left hook followed up by a blatant low blow. The Referee gives him a brief warning and the fight continues.
Jermain Taylor clearly has nothing left and is doing his best to avoid exchanging punches at all costs... Hopkins has him hurt and wobbly with 40 seconds left so Taylor starts holding on.
Even if Jermain Taylor wins this fight, I'll never be a fan. This is a close fight and yet he's not finishing strong. That's what made me turn on Oscar De La Hoya. He's got a lot of talent but heart is what wins over boxing fans, and I don't see any of that. He's younger, stronger, and more talented than Bernard- where's the courage?
The round ends with both fighters in the middle of the ring missing with wild punches. One of the HBO announcers (Jim Lampley) tries to make it sound dramatic screaming that Taylor landed a "huge" combination as the bell rang. I guess we're supposed to ignore the fact that he clearly missed each punch by a foot. That pretty much sums up the whole fight. A lot of hype but nobody did much.
My final score card looks like this:
Hopkins- 115
Taylor- 113
I think Hopkins won, but I could also see how someone could have scored it as a draw. It was a very close fight.
Taylor's left eye is swollen shut. He doesn't look like a guy who thinks he just won a fight.
The Judge's score cards are in.
All three judges score the fight 115-113, and the winner is............
Jermain Taylor
Yuck... even Rosie the Cat looks disappointed. I wish I could say I was surprised, but I'm not. This is boxing and sometimes the conclusions seem incomplete or unfair.
To me, the final punch statistics say it all. Hopkins landed 130 punches and Taylor landed 124... but the real indicator is in the power punches. Hopkins landed 101 power punches and Taylor landed only 60.
As we're cleaning up the dirty dishes and getting ready to call it a night, a spider runs across the carpet. He's coming right for me.
Morena is frozen with fear. I let out a regrettable yelp... Thankfuly, just before the spider gets to me, my mom runs over to smack it with a shoe. It was the best punch landed all night.
Jessica awakes just in time to watch the spectacle unfold through her sleepy eyes... When it's all over she stumbles upstairs to bed, dragging her blanket behind her. She never even asked who won the fight...
I'll let HBO Analyst and Rhodes Scholar Roy Jones Jr. get the last word-
"Even though Hopkins lost the fight, I think he showed him very well for his self."
Well said Roy. Well said...
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